The Heir
by QuiksilverGirl
Summary: Sarah Williams never quite let go of her fantastical journey years before, but wasn't entirely sure just how real it was. Magic was naught but more than a fond remembrance tied to dreams of adventure and handsome foes. After all, even if magic did exist, she was done with that chapter of her life... though it certainly wasn't done with her.
1. Chapter 1

_It just wasn't fair._

The memories that surfaced upon that thought only proved to add insult to injury. Her emerald green eyes snapped closed to shut out the sight before her.

"Sarah!"

The strangled cry was awkward and muffled from the direction of her roommate's bed. Though, in a way it was almost impressive that she could form words at all with his tongue so far down her throat. She could feel her brow twitch sharply at the sound of the pair rushing to separate.

"Sarah, hun, I thought you had another class today…"

Her gaze snapping back to her soon to be ex-boyfriend in utter disbelief, she managed to school her expression into a bitter smirk, channeling a certain condescending narcissist from her past. Pulling her shoulders back and tilting her chin just so, her displeasure seemed to fill the room with a tangible spark.

"My apologizes, Brian. I didn't mean to inconvenience you with my abrupt schedule change…" spitting the words out like poison in her mouth. If only she could imitate his unaffected air as well… She swiftly turned on her heels and flew from the room before the traitorous tears managed to break free.

Their pleading voices rang out behind her as she nearly tumbled down the stairs in haste. _Oh yes, I want nothing more than to stay and hear how you accidentally managed to fall on top on my roommate in only your boxers while trying to help her find a filling she swallowed. Oh? Your hand up her shirt was just to try to help keep her warm? How chivalrous of you_!

Giving the glass door to her dorm a not so gentle shove, her ears were assaulted by a distinct ripping noise as her favorite jacket decided it would rather remain (partially) behind, snagged as it was on the adjacent door handle. With only a momentary pause to let the rage bubble out in a less than elegant, "Aaaaaaahhhhh!" Sarah continued to stalk across the soggy grass of the courtyard, ignoring the near blinding sheets of water raining down.

* * *

"Just a minute!"

Sagging heavily against the wall just outside the worn apartment door, each second passed endlessly, replaying her day from the coffee mug she'd shattered to the rejection email for the grad study she'd applied to and through the events of the last hour leaving her cold, tired, dejected, and thoroughly disenchanted with the world around her.

The aged door creaked open shedding brighter light into the dingy hallway. Swinging around the corner of the door frame came the closest thing Sarah had ever known to a sister. Her wild red curls bounced carefree about her luminous face. But as she saw the state of her disheveled best friend, the joy seemed to evaporate from the very air around her.

"Sarah?! You okay? What happened to you?" Cassie's gently accented voice and slender arms wrapping tightly around her was the most soothing thing she'd felt in forever. As she was carefully guided into the cozy apartment, she felt some small amount of hope for the first time that day.

* * *

The comforting light scent of citrus and berries seemed to permeate the small space, and the warm glow from the small fireplace sent merry shadows dancing about the room. Sarah curled deeper into the worn quilt, her hands gratefully absorbing the heat from her mug of tea. Finally finishing the account of the worst day of her life, she turned her now dry but still swollen gaze to the couch's other occupant. Cassie leaned in, hand gently resting on Sarah's shoulder, a steady comfort in the storm of her raw emotions.

"Sarah… I am so sorry! You ne'er even would have looked twice at Brian if I had not pushed you to it! It's entirely my fault…" The guilt she genuinely felt twisting her lovely features in a painful way, her light brogue losing its character lilt.

"Honestly, while I feel rather betrayed, I can't say that I'm all that heartbroken. I mean… maybe it's because we'd only been dating a few weeks. I never really felt a spark with him. He was always just so…" ordinary, boring, mundane. A mismatched pair of eyes alit with teasing mirth, flashed in her mind, and she shook the haunting image away. "…not right." were the words she lamely settled on. "It's probably a good thing it didn't go any further… though, I can think of a few better ways he might have ended it."

Looking back up from her steaming drink, she saw relief begin to sweep away the shame and smooth the lines on the redhead's brow. It marveled her. Sarah got along well enough with others, but she was never able to make a connection, to feel close to any of her friends, or even boyfriends for that matter. Until Cassie. The honest kinship she shared with Cassie struck her as one of her greatest treasures. And taking in her friend's compassionate visage, she was pretty certain Cassie felt the same.

* * *

It was a strange chance meeting barely more than three years prior. Sarah had just moved into student housing at the university, and while most of the freshmen chose to spend that weekend pledging houses or enjoying their new-found freedom at campus parties, Sarah wandered through the small town she would call home for the next few years.

In wasn't long before her aimless meandering led her down a small bricked alley lit warmly in the orange sunset. While most of the storefronts on the main street boasted large, colorful, well-maintained signage, just before her was a half-hidden faded wooden sign with elegant script reading, "Books & Coffee". She might have missed the small placard entirely if the sun hadn't chosen that moment to gleam off the last of the gold paint set in the lettering.

The heavy oak door pushed open much easier than she had expected it to, and Sarah nearly stumbled into the little shop, her entrance announced by the delicate tones of a crystal chime above the door. Before she could right herself and look around, her nose was assailed by the intoxicating scent of ground coffee and aged leather. Glancing up, her mouth parted slightly at the wonder she had found. The high walls were lined to the ceiling with volume after volume of leather bound books, surrounding an assortment of antique furniture. Just past the last table on the right was an ornately carved counter curving out from the wall, furnished with a what appeared to be a wide selection of coffees & teas.

Only one of the room's two occupants bothered to look up from their books at her arrival, and the older gentleman barely spared a disinterested glance and a quick nod of his head before looking back down. While creeping insecurities made her consider that she might not belong here, her fascination pushed her deeper into the shop. She hadn't made it five step before one of the most beautiful and cheerful people Sarah had ever seen bounded out of the doorway at the back left and made a beeline for her.

" _Fáilte Romhat!_ Come in, come in! Sit anywhere you like… except maybe by James over there. Likes his space, that one. But anywhere else… please take your time lookin about. Anythin' I can get you?" Partially entranced by the fair, freckled beauty with shining bright blue eyes, and partly overwhelmed by becoming the target of so much enthusiasm and attention, Sarah stood there stone-faced a moment as the girl, not much older than herself, waited patiently for an answer.

Heat coloring her cheeks as she finally came back to herself, Sarah quickly smiled back and looked over towards the offerings on and behind the counter. Stepping closer to peruse her options, her gaze settled on one of the homemade tea blends featured in a glass jar with a hand-written label sporting the same elegant script as the sign outside. "Maybe…the Willow's Rose? Please?"

"Comin right up!" Her head snapped up to see the girl just in front of her on the other side of the counter. _When had she…_ Without missing a beat the lively girl set about her task, but stopped mid pour as if in dawning realization. Turning back to Sarah, she quickly wiped her hand on her apron before offering it, "I'm Cassie, by the by…"

"Sarah" As their hands met, a sort of charged warmth seemed to spread from the point of contact, clearly surprising both. Cassie recovered first, her kind smile stretching even wider still.

* * *

The fond memory wiping away the last of her self-pity, her brow furrowed with a sudden thought.

"Cassie, how is it that I never see you with anyone else? You are sweet, smart, pretty as hell… why don't you have other friends?" The utterly perplexed look on Cassie's face seemed to convey genuine confusion at such an obvious answer rather than any offense taken. Quickly catching herself, her charming smile reappeared.

"Gods, Sarah! You sure know to hit where it hurts." She playfully bumped Sarah with her shoulder to indicate that she was merely joking. But a teasing memory, faded by time, played just on the outside of her consciousness. Such an odd exclamation… but the wet heat running down her hand quickly brought her attention back into focus as she gave out a little yelp, "Cassie! The tea!"

It was only a few errant drops but Cassie leapt to grab a towel, apologizing profusely as she went. By the time she rushed back, her smile was firmly entrenched, "Well, surely this will be the last bit of bad luck for the day! I think you have more than filled your quota, so …"

Her bubbly statement was cut short by the angry buzz of a Sarah's cell phone on the side table next to her. Almost immediately, a familiar ringtone joined in, causing Sarah's smile to drop and brows to furrow deeply. "That's my dad…"

Her soft murmur trailed off as she moved to trade her tea for the phone before it could run to voicemail. "Hello? Dad?"

"Hi Sarah, Sweetie." His tone was flat and empty, and the fingers of dread began to walk their way up Sarah's spine. "Dad, what's wrong? Is Toby okay? Karen?"

Letting out a distinct sign, her father's voice quickly replied, "Yes, Toby is good. So are Karen and I. Sarah…"

The silence dragged on and Sarah was about to make sure the call hadn't disconnected, when he finally spoke again. His pained words clawing at her mind.

"Sarah… it's about your mother."


	2. Chapter 2

Huddled on the small bed of her childhood room, Sarah's blank stare did little to convey the utter turmoil roiling just below the surface of control. So many emotions battled, tumbling over and under, around and down through her heart… but the strongest of these: Denial, Anger, and Despair.

'It was a terrible accident', they said. 'A complete tragedy'… no one could have known the terrain they were filming on that day was so unstable. 'Pure luck that no one else was hurt' Her jaw clenched tightly remembering that one. Her mother hadn't been hurt… hurt implied there was the chance to heal.

Always the daring and carefree actress, Linda Williams had been performing what amounted to a cliche scene on a cliff overlooking the ocean. Filming was nearly done for the day, when the rocks gave way beneath her feet. Despite the steep drop, there had been lingering hope she might survive, as the very water surged up to catch her. Her broken body was found washed ashore on a nearby beach.

Closing her eyes tightly to try and stave off the nausea threatening to overwhelm her, Sarah took deep shuddering breaths as her shaking body betrayed her anguish. But the longer she kept her eyes closed, the more she was able to see the dreadful scene described to her. Unable to bear it any longer, the green pools flew open, only to behold the now crumpled, tear-stained letter clutched tightly in her hands. For the hundredth time since her father handed it to her that morning, the now memorized words fell from her lips as she read it.

To My Darling Sarah,

I've never been very good at expressing myself… at least, not when it mattered most. Despite the distance that has come between us over time, there are a few truths that I very much need you to know.

I love you. Have always loved you. You were until the very end my beacon in the dark, my hope for the future. Not a day passed that I didn't think of you… wishing so dearly that things could be different.

I am immeasurably proud of you. I have been since your very first breath. Each time I watched you (yes, I was always watching) on stage for your school musicals, or always trying your best at tennis or track, reciting your favorite plays or poetry when you thought no one was looking, and through each of the steady steps you've taken to become the beautiful, strong, and wise young woman you are today. You truly are my greatest joy.

Though I have written and re-written this letter every few years, I have no way of knowing when it will come to you. I only hope that you have been able to live your life to the fullest, enjoyed the splendor of this world, and found real happiness.

Now I must make one last selfish request of you. There is a standing practice in our family regarding burial rites of the fallen. I performed it when your grandma passed, and she for her mother before her… going back for uncounted generations. Upon death, one's ashes must be returned home, to our family's grave and spread as a traditional farewell is spoken. It may seem trivial in the grand scheme of things, but I cannot tell you how important this is to me.

If you can find it in your heart to grant me this final wish, my lawyer will handle all travel details and expenses, and give you everything you need including additional instructions.

It is my eternal hope that you find happiness in life, my beloved child, my dearest Sarah.

Farewell,

Mom

Head drooping more as the emotional exhaustion finally started to overwhelm her, unthinking she began to mumble a long-buried desire, "I wish… I wish I could…" her body finally giving way, she didn't get to finish… not aloud at least.

* * *

Three thousand, five hundred ninety-two… three thousand, five hundred ninety-three… three thousand, five hundred ninety-four… Despite what the chaotic rabble he called subjects squawked about him behind, and often in front of, his back, Jareth possessed legendary patience. However…

His riding crop creaked with the strain as his grip tightened dangerously. Three thousand, six hundred eleven…

"Enough!" Reining in his magic just enough to ensure no mortal wound would come to the offending goblins sent flying out in the powerful burst, the Goblin King rose to his full height abruptly ending the goblin army's target practice… also known as 'who can shoot a spitball closest to the throne without actually hitting it'. Shrieks of glee and maniacal giggles filled the air. Hopeless. These creatures were utterly hopeless.

Sinking back into the littered throne in dejected resignation, his gloved fingers pinched his brow in some small bid to abate the oncoming headache. His other hand waved effortlessly in the air to clear the offending spitballs. _So this is what it's come to_ …

Even this slow fall into abject madness might be bearable, if only… his eyes widened ever so slightly in realization of his traitorous thoughts. How long had it been since he thought on her? Since the dull ache in his chest rivaled the relentless throbbing of his head. Surely it couldn't have been more than a few years? Or maybe seconds? Time had been so fickle since his defeat at her hands that it might be hard to say.

 _"You have no power over me._ " And with those words, she'd stolen so much… even his chance to watch over her. With nothing of interest to reference for passing time, it might have been moments or centuries that had passed since she so forcefully swept through his life.

Piercing through the pounding in his head, came a familiar, near-forgotten sensation. A summons. Heaving a sigh and resolutely pulling himself together, he opened himself to the pull of the magic. Never imagining for a moment where he might end up.

As the tides that moved him gently ebbed away with a sparkling mist, his breath hitched and body tensed at the sight before him. _Sarah_ …

Bedraggled and tear-stained as she was, he would know her face anywhere… even half buried in her makeshift cocoon of blankets. Not until a slight whimper gave way to deeper breathing, did he realize that she was asleep. Finally able to pull air into his lungs, he slowly stalked his way to the bed. She looked terrible… and all together stunning.

Unconsciously reaching out to push a willowy strand of hair from her face, the subtle changes became more apparent. _It must have been years._

While she had found her way into the underground a beautiful child just starting to bloom, here was a radiant blossom that had fully matured. His eyes tracing from the high cheek bones down the delicate curve of her neck disappearing into the ample swell of breast just barely peeking out. His fingers twitched at his side, eager to pull back the blanket and see the full extent of her development. Surprised by his waning self restraint, he quickly began looking about… hoping to make sense of this unexpected situation.

And that's when he saw the letter, still clutched securely at her side. With a twist of his wrist the well-worn paper appeared in his hand. His jaw clenching tightly as he read it, understanding dawning as to her forlorn state.

And so, she had called out to him. Whether she meant to or not, at her time of greatest need, she had let him back in. But why? She had always thought of him as the villain, the baby snatcher who tormented runners. Had he not played his part admirably? Or was it possible that throughout the years she came to realize…

Back straightening and his features schooling into an implacable mask, he resolutely pushed the fleeting hope down. It mattered not. He would not fail her. This might very well be the last time he saw her. While the thought was distressing, he busied himself producing a crystal… coaxing into it the best memories of her childhood, dreams of her mother. Holding the polished sphere over her sleeping form, it dissolved with a puff of glitter, and as it settled, the tension melted from her body with a smile pulling at the corner of her lips. His eyes magnetically drawn to the small motion.

Knowing that staying any longer would only make it harder to leave, he burned her image into his memory before ghosting a gentle kiss to her temple and relaxing into the magic that would send him home.

* * *

"Completely out of the question!"

The normally calm and composed Robert A Williams bellowed at what he felt was an utterly ridiculous imposition on his grieving daughter. Perhaps channeling more than a little of his own grief towards the flinching lawyer backing nervously towards the front door.

"I don't know what Linda was thinking, but the fact that she would be so inconsiderate and self-centered to the very end, asking her now motherless child to…" Not realizing his mistake as he shouted over the footfalls of his no longer sleeping daughter coming down the staircase behind him. She serenely interrupted him with a gentle hand on his arm, her scratchy voice unwavering despite her lingering distress, "… to make her own decision about her mother's burial."

His defensive rage fell away with a defeated drop of his shoulders, his arms reaching towards her automatically as if he could shield her from the pain. "Sarah, sweetie. You don't have to do this."

"I know, Dad. But… I want to. Not out of a sense of guilt or obligation or anything, but more… I think this might be a good way to say goodbye." It would be a lie to say that her emotions had calmed, or that the mountain of unresolved issues sourced from her mother's abandonment had suddenly dissipated. But oddly, she felt afforded some brief moments of peace that helped her to at least choose a path forward. Turning her now determined gaze towards the harried lawyer, she resolutely requested he make the arrangements.


End file.
